


Interloper

by simplebitch



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Devanna is a hermit who lives in a tower, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplebitch/pseuds/simplebitch
Summary: Written for Cullavellan week, this prompt is:We all know Cullen winds up with a mabari, but are there any adorable animals that the pair share? Or perhaps your Lavellan has someone to add to the mix! This day is all about pets!





	Interloper

Cullen leaned back against the sofa, head falling back and eyes drifting closed as he let his arms stretch over the edge. He liked being here, more than his own quarters sometimes. His loft was good, comfortable even, better now that the runes protected his bed from the weather, but he had a hard time separating it from from the overwhelming concept of work. Whereas Devanna’s two floors of her tower were just… comfortable. Even without opening his eyes he could feel the echoes of her presence all around him; the hand woven blanket, fingertips brushing across the heavy wool, the soft ticking of the little dwarven toy she had found, and the familiar blend of incense that burned whenever the fire was going--which was nearly always now in the cold bite of winter.

She wasn’t there, he knew, but she would be soon. Devanna had some business to wrap up, a discussion she wanted to have with Solas, and he knew that she’d be unwilling to linger in the transit between the rotunda and her tower. By that logic, he should be the only one in the tower, and yet Cullen couldn’t relax--not fully--because he knew without a doubt that he was being watched. He could feel the prickle of it against the back of his awareness, the knowledge that there was something else in the room with him.

Amber eyes opened slowly, head lifting as his gaze swept around to find the source of his discomfort.

Only to find a pair of gold eyes staring back.

Cullen sat up, brows furrowing in surprise and confusion as he took in what had to be the fluffiest orange cat he’d ever seen. It was sitting on the corner of her desk, paws tucked in neatly, and tail curled around its feet. It didn’t move, sitting so perfectly still, that he would have thought it a statue. He stared at it, and it stared back, unwavering, and he couldn’t help but get the impression that it was… accusing him? Wary? As though he were an interloper, and Cullen couldn’t help the indignation considering he had been here first.

Across the room the door opened with a gust of frigid air, snowflakes sweeping in as Devanna stepped inside. She pressed her back to it, shoving it hard as she rubbed her hands together and Maker’s Breath she looked cold. Even from the distance between them--his attention gone from the cat--he could see how wind bitten and red the tips of her ears were. Cullen was up on his feet in an instant, intending wholly to go to her side and pull her into the heat of his body, but the cat beat him to it.

“Ah, aneth ara Hauen.” She grinned down as the cat twined itself between her ankles, pulling off her gloves and scarf, reaching for the buttons on her coat. “Have you been good today? Stayed out of my plants?”

It braced its paws on her leg, making a soft mrrrp noise as its head rubbed against the bend of her knee. Devanna let out a delighted coo--one that she would ardently deny--as she tossed her coat on the hook, bending down to lift the cat up. She hadn’t noticed Cullen yet, a fact for which he was actually quite grateful as it gave him the opportunity to watch her. The open, obvious affection on her face was such a lovely change from the guarded mask she always wore in public and it never ceased to amaze him that he was one of the lucky few who got to see this side of her. Beyond the fierce exterior of the warrior, the Inquisitor’s right hand, down to the softer, gentler woman underneath.

And Maker, but he loved the way her eyes would glitter when she was happy.

When she buried her face in the cat’s fur--Hauen she’d called it--he finally crossed the short space from the sofa to her side, dragging the blanket up with him. He could see, over the crest of ginger fur, that her attention was on him, the corner of her mouth hitched up into a smile.

Cullen didn’t hesitate as he wrapped the slighter woman into a tight hug, feeling the outside chill press in through her clothes as she let him mold her back to his chest.

“Maker’s breath, Dev, you’re practically frozen solid.” He breathed, hugging her even tighter as he nuzzled against the nape of her neck.

“You might not have noticed, but it’s kind of cold outside.” She shot back, teeth chattering slightly. “Take me to the fire.”

He couldn’t help but grin at the plaintive whine in the request, reluctantly stepping away so he could take the blanket and bundle her up in it. “When did you get a cat?”

Hauen hadn’t made an attempt to escape as they were both cocooned in the thick blanket, fluffy head poking out under her chin. He offered his fingers for the cat to sniff, giving it a moment to pass judgement before lightly scratching behind one ear. Gold eyes blinked shut lazily as a low, rumbling purr started up and Cullen couldn’t help but feel that he’d been approved of.

“I found him when we were--uff--on our way back from Sahrina.” She explained, grunting as he lifted her into his arms. “That was… maybe a few weeks ago? Poor thing was half starved and very dirty.”

“He’s certainly filled out well.” He chuckled, crossing the few steps to grab the edge of the couch, dragging it around so that it was closely facing the hearth. “Gave me quite a start when I first saw him.”

“And here I thought you would be jealous.” Devanna grinned up at him, happily petting Hauen even as he settled her down carefully. “He’s your replacement after all.”

Cullen quirked an eyebrow at that, watching as the cat readjusted itself on her chest. “Oh?”

“He’s the new lion of Skyhold.” Devanna nodded, the serious tone of her voice overshadowed by the way her yellow eyes gleamed playfully. “I’m sorry. He’s also the new lion of my heart, so… you know it’s unfortunate but you have to find a new motif. Might I suggest a bear?”

“A bear.” He repeated in amusement, playing along as he set the kettle over the fire for tea. “Blackwall might protest.”

“Oh.” She pouted, shifting slightly so he could sit on the edge of the sofa, free hand slipping under the edge of his tunic to press cold fingers against his heated skin.

It was a relief, and an act that he always appreciated; not only did Cullen enjoy warming her up, but his body had a tendency to run hotter than normal since he’d given up lyrium. He leaned into the touch, his own fingers following the sharp line of her jaw, stopping to rest on the scar that cut across her chin. There was nothing inherently sexual about the touch, really; he liked the contact, liked the fact that he was one of the few people allowed unrestricted access into his personal space. Nonetheless he couldn’t miss the spark of something that darkened her eyes, the slits of her pupils opening ever so slightly as she licked her lips. It was all Cullen could do not to close the distance between them and kiss her.

“And Solas has taken to the wolf motif.” He said instead, hand sliding up so his palm could press against the slightly warming shell of her ear. “There already exists a dragon of Skyhold, so really that’s all of the good predators. It appears I’ve no other course of action.”

He looked down, scritching against the scruff of Hauen’s neck. “I must concede victory, my fluffy friend.”

Hauen purred impossibly louder at that, body stretched out and bleeding satisfaction, as languid and insufferable as his owner.

Devanna laughed at that, her head shifting on the pillow as she watched him with such open fondness his heart grew tight in his chest. “You are a gracious loser. Lucky for you the position of Commander is still open.”

“I almost wish he’d take that one instead.” He shook his head, giving into the urge to press a quick kiss to her forehead.

One that would have likely escalated to something farther if the tea kettle hadn’t chosen that moment to start spitting and whistling. Instead he stood from the couch, going through the motions of making them both a cup of tea. Devanna, he knew, liked hers almost sickeningly sweet--hummingbird nectar he called it--and he made sure to heap in the honey. As he did, she chatted at him about her day, and the discussions she’d had with Solas, a continual rumble of purring from the cat drifting with the other ambient noise of the room.

It was all decidedly… domestic, he realized, stealing a glance over at her as he balanced the two cups, and Cullen couldn’t help the swell of utter contentment that filled him.


End file.
